For the first time, I could share my love of domesticity with my partner. Like my mom, I had always taken pleasure in making a home and nesting in it. For most of my adult life, I’d been shopping for food alone, with no one to share either the burden or the joy. Mike came with me to Ralphs every Saturday, holding the produce bags open for me and running around looking for weird new snacks. He made it fun. He makes everything fun. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t afford to go on lavish vacations anymore, because being at home with Mike was enough. I thought of the five-star hotels, spas, and
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